


Punta Soleado

by GlassRain



Category: Fledgling - Octavia E. Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blood Drinking, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Multi, Polyamory, Vampire Sex, pseudo-underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 08:38:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17040455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassRain/pseuds/GlassRain
Summary: Shori and her symbionts finally build themselves a long-term home. Found-family bonding, sexy blood-drinking, vampire polyamory, happy ending.(Canon character-death fixit AU.)





	Punta Soleado

**Author's Note:**

  * For [panavatar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/panavatar/gifts).



> Dear recipient: Happy holidays! Fledgling isn't even the fandom we matched on but when I saw your request I had to write it.
> 
> Dear readers who aren't familiar with the book: Shori is a young member of a long-lived pseudo-vampire species. Chronologically, she's over 50; socially, she's considered too young to get married, but old enough to have consensual sex and defend herself in court; physically, she can be mistaken for a human 10-year-old. If this is a squick, now you're warned.

The real estate agent offered us some time to discuss the blueprints alone and stepped out, leaving me and my three symbionts to look them over. I had brought a subset who could pass as an unremarkable human family: Brook and Joel, posing as my parents, and Theodora, acting as my grandmother.

I was still small enough that it wouldn't draw a lot of attention for me to sit in Theodora's lap. She could even cuddle me a little without the true nature of our relationship becoming obvious to onlookers.

"We'll want a bedroom for each of us -- including you, Shori, for when your Ina mates come over," said Joel. "And a few extras for guests."

Brook coughed self-consciously. "We might not . . . that is, I might not need a separate bedroom." Her cheeks turned pink. "From Wright's."

I glanced at Theodora to see how she was taking this. Unlike Brook, who had been a symbiont for years, and Joel, who had grown up in an Ina community to symbiont parents, she had no experience with anything outside the monogamous social structures of her own human culture.

But she only looked thoughtful, then said, "If you're going to live as long as Shori says you will, even if you stay romantically involved for all those years, there will be times when you want your own space. We should plan for that."

"It might not even take years," I added. "Wright is very territorial. It will be psychologically healthier if he has someplace he can claim as his own. If not a bedroom, perhaps a 'man cave.'"

I had learned this term from the internet.

Brook and Joel looked at each other with some combination of surprise and other emotions I couldn't read. Then Joel broke into a grin. "You'll just blurt out anything, won't you, Shori? Probably wouldn't hesitate to say that right to his face."

I had not 'blurted it out.' It was a statement based on a lot of thoughtful observation. But it occurred to me then that I could speak my mind freely around Wright, because his instincts told him to accept whatever I said, even when he didn't like it. He had no such instinct with his co-symbionts. "Has he made either of you feel afraid to speak freely?"

It was a great relief when they both shook their heads. "I mean, we hold our tongues a little around each other," said Joel, "but that's just politeness. He doesn't like me, he has the good sense to keep it to himself as much as possible, and I have the good sense not to needle him about it."

"And if I wanted something he didn't like, I wouldn't hide it on his account," added Brook. "We've talked enough that I don't think that will happen . . . but Theodora's probably right, it's good to have a backup plan." She giggled a little. "Including a 'man-cave' plan."

Joel tapped one of the blueprints. "What about this one, then? The numbers add up."

Theodora hugged me a little tighter and craned her neck over my shoulder to see. "Lovely old-fashioned architecture," she declared. "Oh, and look! A real fireplace."

I stiffened. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Brook do the same. "No fireplaces."

A hush fell. Of course Joel and Theodora knew that my entire family had been burned to death, but only Brook and I had experienced the loss firsthand. Only we had seen the smouldering remains of my brothers' community up close. 

"That was people outside, pouring gasoline and throwing matches on it," said Joel, trying to be soothing. "That didn't have anything to do with --"

"I don't care," I said flatly. Whatever the context, I would not willingly bring fire into my home.

"All right, Shori dear," said Theodora, kissing my temple. "No fireplaces."

 

***

 

Joel went through the purchases to me later, at the resort cabin where we were currently staying. We sat in his bed, a laptop computer resting on his knees, and he explained how the rent from some business I had inherited proxy-ownership of (and not yet had time to investigate in person) would pay for the materials, the construction, the water, the electricity. "And there's a Gordon symbiont working at a regional company who can give us an excellent deal on bricks."

I liked the notion of brick walls, but was unsure about the rest. "I don't want to cheat them," I said. "We shouldn't force them to offer a better deal than they could afford to give a human family."

"That's not what I mean!" Joel assured me. "The Gordons have an ongoing contract with the company. Lower prices in exchange for the family hiring them exclusively. As the betrothed of their sons -- well, _one_ of their sons, is what we'll tell them for human legal purposes -- you can be accounted for as part of the family."

"Oh." I liked that much better.

Joel put one arm around my shoulders, and used the other to lift the laptop -- it was a thin, lightweight model even by human standards -- onto the nearby windowsill. Out of our way. "I love how ethical you are, you know that?"

Using a fraction of my own strength, I pulled him over on top of me.

I had found that sex was most enjoyable when I let my symbionts handle most of the physical motion. We undid each other's trousers, then he held my hips and guided his length into me. Human instincts would keep the basic rhythm going even after I bit him, sinking my teeth into the hot veins of his neck and using my venom to drive him half out of his mind with pleasure.

Joel was too sensitive to last long. He came with a rough gasp, then let himself collapse, knowing I could handle the weight with ease, whilst I continued sucking his blood until I was satisfied.

As I was licking the bite to help it heal, Joel murmured, as if we had only paused the conversation for a breath or two, "I love _you_."

I stroked the back of his neck, knowing it could only convey a fraction of how precious he was to me.

 

***

 

The night before the house was set to be finished, I took a call with a group of Joan Brathwaite's nieces. The word had gone out that I was looking for new sisters, and the Brathwaites and Gordons had both agreed that this family could be trusted.

The sisters were already betrothed to a group of brothers, but there was a significant age difference between most of them and the youngest, who was close to my age and the most ambivalent about the match. Also, the group couldn't be formally mated until they were all fertile, and although it went unspoken, I sensed her older sisters were impatient that she was holding them up.

It was a good conversation. She was more outgoing than I was, and funnier, but seemed serious enough when she assured me she would accept me as head of the family in spite of my amnesia and part-human heritage. We didn't make any firm commitments, but we agreed to meet, and by the end of the call I had nothing but good feelings about the potential.

It was strange to think, but since my amnesia, I had never known another Ina my own age.

I let my thoughts drift off and my senses wander, listening to the bustle of my symbionts in the other parts of the cabin.. In the kitchen, Theodora and Celia were talking, over what sounded like tea. 

Coincidentally, the first words I overheard -- after what was presumably some cultural reference, which I didn't recognise but which made them both laugh -- were Theodora saying, "It's amazing to think we grew up at the same time, even though you look so much younger than I do. And that Shori really _is_ the age you appear to be."

"Once you've lived with the Ina long enough, it won't seem strange at all," said Celia. "You would've met a lot more people our age in the crowd that showed up for the Council of Judgement . . . although it's probably for the best Shori didn't bring you to join her until after the conviction. It was dangerous enough for the rest of us. By that point she'd narrowly escaped three different attacks, so she was paranoid enough that she barely let us out of her sight, and I'm sure that saved our lives."

"I wasn't sorry to miss that," agreed Theodora. "And I'm sure I'll have time to make at least a few more connections."

Neither of them said outright that she would have less time than Celia, thanks to her much later access to Ina-induced health benefits, but it must have been on both of their minds. "Do you regret not meeting the Ina sooner?"

"Oh, goodness, no," said Theodora warmly. "I'm too happy as Shori's symbiont to want anything else. Aren't you?"

I found myself holding my breath -- though of course I could hear the answer just as well either way -- until Celia said, "You know what, I think I am."

 

***

 

Wright and Brook did end up getting their own rooms, but Wright enlisted Brook to help pick out his bed and some of the furnishings.

After the three of us put them together, he sat down on the bed and ran his hands in wonder over the bedding. "I didn't know sheets _got_ this soft."

The mattress dipped as Brook sat beside him, a wistful smile crossing her face. "It's one of the little luxuries Iosif introduced me to. Even though he would pass out come sunrise no matter where he was sleeping, he insisted on beds with high-end sheets."

I climbed into her lap and nibbled on her neck, biting down just a little. Not enough to feed properly, just enough to soothe her and remind her that she was mine now. She let out a satisfied breath and relaxed into the bite.

"Do you, uh . . ." stammered Wright. From the change in his scent, I didn't need to look up to know that he was becoming aroused. "Do you two want some privacy?"

"Do you _want_ us to want some privacy?" responded Brook.

I knew, and probably she did too, that this was a gamble. Wright had a special jealousy toward Joel, my only other male symbiont, because of human cultural conditioning that told him relationships between women were less significant. If he saw Brook and I getting as much satisfaction from each other as we sometimes did from him, it might add to his jealousy. On the other hand, if he found the view sexually stimulating enough, he might be motivated to put it aside.

"No," said Wright at last. "I, uh, I want to help. Can I do that?"

I looked from him to Brook. "Shall I bite you as you ride him?"

She shivered a little. "Yes, please."

We took off her clothing slowly, Wright in particular stopping frequently to kiss whatever skin he had just exposed. At last she straddled his hips, grinding against his prodigious arousal, and he waited with breathless patience as she worked herself up.

When Brook sank down onto him, gripping his shoulders for balance, I came up behind her and held her waist steady as I bit her neck. She moved slowly at first, then faster, trying at once to keep her head steady whilst pumping her hips at a vigorous pace. She didn't quite manage it, but I didn't mind being jostled around a bit, and wondered if I was tasting the adrenaline in her racing pulse on my tongue. It wasn't until she arched her back in the final convulsions that I lost my grip and left a pair of sharp fang-scratches down over her shoulder.

Although I hadn't taken enough blood to weaken her, the exertion and pleasure left Brook tired enough afterwards that she cuddled up in Wright's arms and fell asleep almost immediately. I snuggled up behind her. The scratches weren't so deep that they wouldn't heal on their own, but I licked them anyway, just in case.

Over the top of Brook's head, and through his own growing sleepiness, Wright murmured to me, "In the . . . certain videos I've watched where this happens . . . it's all about the guy. You know? He's the centre of attention, if you see what I mean."

Not literally, but I knew enough about humans to get the idea. "Would you have preferred that?"

"I mean, it's _nice_ , don't get me wrong," said Wright quickly. He smoothed some of Brook's tousled hair. "But this was pretty nice too."

 

***

 

I did a joyful rotation through each of my symbionts' rooms that first week, sleeping in a new one every day.

The last one happened to be Theodora. Her room had a lovely desk by the window, getting plenty of sunlight by day and poetic views of the moon through the trees by night . . . and it was already heaped with disorganised piles of paper, cards, stamps, writing utensils, books marked with what looked like random convenient scraps, and miscellaneous items like a phone she had forgotten to plug in.

I laughed at the sight. "How did you manage to make a mess so quickly?"

"How can I help it?" countered Theodora. "You inspire me! You make me want to write."

"Shall I inspire you some more?" I asked. Later, it occurred to me that perhaps I should have winked.

With the strengthening effects of my venom, Theodora could have endured much more vigorous activity than what would have been safe for her the year before. But her preferences were much more subdued than those of my younger symbionts, or even of those that Celia seemed to be developing, now that I had claimed her enough for her to delight in my touch rather than simply tolerating it.

So I lay Theodora down on her bed, settled between her legs, and worked her to a heady flush with my lips and tongue until I could feel her flesh throbbing against mine. Her body undulated in slow, luxurious movements, only giving one sharp jolt when I bit deep into her, and one final shudder when I finished her off.

She was a cuddler afterwards, enfolding my small body in her soft arms. One of us would have to get up eventually, to draw the curtains against the light of dawn, but I was content not to move until then.

After some time, I spoke on a hunch I had been developing. "Did you enjoy being with women, before?"

"I think I would have," said Theodora at last.

"What do you mean?"

It felt as if she was looking, not at me, but over my head at the twinkling stars outside. "There was . . . when I was barely any older than you look now . . . there was a girl. She even looked a bit like you -- not that she was black, it wasn't a mixed neighbourhood in those days, but something about her eyes . . . we only ever kissed, and oh, it made my head spin! Then her family moved away. I don't think they had found us out. It was just bad luck."

"And there was never anyone else?" I asked.

Theodora shook her head. "I married, a nice college boy with a promising career, and we had children that I love very much and wouldn't give up for the world, but -- it was never like _that_ with anyone else again. Until you."

 

***

 

Although we had no fireplaces, in the winter Brook introduced us to something called the Yule Log Channel, which played a long looped video of a crackling fire. I found it was comforting to play it on the large television whilst we all settled into couches around the living room.

We each had our own personal tasks that were pleasant to do side-by-side. This evening saw Joel at his laptop doing something with spreadsheets, Celia and Wright using their phones to post reassuring messages to their relatives on social media, and Theodora jotting down scraps of poetry in an elegant notebook I had given her. I was reading an Ina book that the Gordons had loaned me, lying with my head in Brook's lap, whilst she alternately thumbed through a magazine and played with my slowly-growing hair.

After things had been quiet for a while, Celia spoke up. "We should give this place a name."

Wright frowned. "What, the house?"

"No, the community. We are building one, aren't we? Shori already has one prospective sister coming, and will probably pick up a few more symbionts over the years . . . eventually she'll have children, and she might not be the only one . . . we'll want a name for the whole place."

"We could call it Punta Soleado," suggested Theodora.

Normally when I heard or saw a word for the first time since my memory loss, the meaning would come along with it. But I didn't recognize either of these. "Why that?"

"It's Spanish, isn't it?" asked Celia. That explained my confusion. "Do you speak it?"

"I only ever learned enough to follow along with a Pablo Neruda poem," admitted Theodora. "But it's enough to work through this, too. You said the Gordons' community was called Punta Nublada -- that means Cloudy Point. And what makes Shori special among Ina is her resistance to being hurt by sunlight. We should honor that."

Wright was the first one to put it together. "Sunny Point?"

"I like it," I said. "All in favor?"

All hands went up.

I wished all my symbionts could have truly understood how much I loved them in that moment. "Punta Soleado it is."


End file.
